A Bad Liver And A Broken Heart
by Lady Mog
Summary: Wei Yan knows that the only thing worse than losing the one you love is knowing you never even had a chance with them.


Disclaimer: I don't own Dynasty Warriors or any the characters used within this fanfic. I'm not making any profit off of this; it is done merely for fun.

* * *

Wei Yan is not a man of words. They don't come easily to him; each word burns his throat and the pain is, even for him, damn near unbearable. Every word he says is what must be said; nothing more. He doesn't give big, rousing speeches; he doesn't have a word for every man that somehow makes them feel that despite the fact he's addressing an audience, the words are just for him.

_A cheer. "A brilliant speech, my husband!" _

Wei Yan is not a man of books. He didn't come for a rich backround; no one in his family knew how to read and for many years he remained ignorant of any written language. He can read a little bit, now, but he recognizes few words and a page looks every so much more like a useless drawing than something that carries meaning.

_"...You want to learn how to read?"_

_"...Yes...Need..."_

_"Well, I'll be glad to teach you. You know, you're the only other person around here besides me and my husband with any interest in words?"_

_"I have to admit, I'm pretty thrilled. It's nice here, but I have difficulty finding people interested in the same things I am."_

_A pause. "Besides Liang, of course."_

Wei Yan isn't a calm man. He's got a nasty temper, and when he drinks, it's even worse. He knows the soldiers - even the loyalist of his own men - whisper about his foul temper and how he treats his enemy soldiers on the battlefield. Sometimes he overhears rumors about his drinking, but Zhang Fei has topped him in that regard. He's thankful his imbibing doesn't turn Lui Bei's eye on him the way it does for Zhang Fei. He likes to drink: it helps him forget.

"_Thank you; that is enough."_

"_Are you sure, my husband? I could always pour some more for you."  
_

_A smile. "Perhaps later…When we are alone."_

Wei Yan is not a handsome man. He'd been a beautiful man, once, before the fire took that away and left him with a broken face and a broken voice. His body has healed, somewhat; the scars earned from battle have covered over the scars left from the burning flesh. But he still _feels_ the fire, and his face still bears testament to it – a reason he keeps it covered. When he showed his face, woman screamed, children cried, and every man looked at him with a strange sort of pity on their faces, and Wei Yan knew that if they remembered him, it was only because when they were alone, they thanked their gods that they were not so disfigured. Wei Yan doesn't like being pitied; the mask must stay on. Forever.

_A window._

"_How on Earth did you grow your hair this long?"_

"_Mmm…practice?"_

"…_Sometimes I think you keep it long just so I'll brush it for you."_

"_Ah, so you're onto my secret, my wife…"_

Wei Yan is in love. He didn't mean to fall in love with one; especially one spoken for. But one day, as the sunlight catches her hair, he knows he is in love with her. He memorizes everything about her, and yet it's still not enough. He knows she smells of flowers, but he wonders what she tastes like. He knows her birthday, but longs to know how she celebrates. Sometimes, he wonders if he could be the one to find out these things; to kill the strategist, take her and make her his. But he knows that he will not do that; that a woman (not a girl; no, never a girl) like that can't be taken against her will; she would never truly be his unless she gave herself of her own consent.

"_Wait! Please wait!" _

"Is that you, Yue Ying?"

_A kiss. "For luck; I couldn't let you leave without it."_

"_So I see…"_

Wei Yan knows he could never possess a woman like her; Wei Yan is nothing like the one who has captured her heart. But Wei Yan wonders, sometimes, if in another time, if he had another chance, if he had met here long before she had met Zhuge Liang, if he could have been the one to sweep her off her feet. Part of him whispers that it's an awful lot of if's. He doesn't like that part of him very much.

"_Are you feeling alright? Looks likethey got in a few blows, there." _

"…Feel…Good…Enemy…Dead…"

_A nod. "Good; let's join up with the others, then. Liang will be worried."_

Wei Yan wishes she would stop haunting him. She's all he sees; she's all he thinks about. He never stops thinking about her. When he is on the battlefield, it is for her he is fighting. When he is sleeping, it is her who haunts his dreams. When he is awake, he wonders where she is. He wishes there was some way, somehow that he could forget her. Sometimes, he thinks, it would be better if they never met; if he had never come to Shu, never met the strategist's lovely, extraordinary wife. But then he thinks about it again, and even though even thinking of her is painful, he knows that he cannot live without her now. For he loves her, just as much as she loves another. In his heart of hearts, all he truly wishes is that he'd gotten to her first.

* * *

You know, here I was, all willing to write something happy; I just couldn't think of anything. So I go to 15minuteficlets and the word is "painful." Then this came to mind and well, here it is.> Next week,the fic I upload will be something _not_ sad, I promise.It's a bit short, too, which I apologize for.

Total time: 10 minutes

What did you think? Please, hit that little review button and scribble down some thoughts. I'd really like to hear them.


End file.
